King Arthur's Awakening
by FlickingWalruses
Summary: After all is said and done, what happens to King Arthur? And what is his fate? Rated T for violence, I guess.


King Arthur's Awakening

November 7th, Time Unknown

There's a calendar on the wall above me. It's 1111 and I'm pretty sure I'm dead. Yet somehow I have awoken to write this. Merlin's doing, perhaps? I've been told wizards and sorcerers are immortal, so he might still be alive. I wonder where I am.

November 8th, Time 04:25

I am back from exploring the surrounding area and have found a number of strange things:

A timepiece with the face shattered, yet still running

A stone lion's head with one eye of green marble the other of a reddish hue, presumably ruby

Numerous cracks in the ceiling, which I found were caused by...dear God, that sword looked unbelievably familiar...

And an odd white circle on a black background with whitish speckles.

I spied the circle through a window of many colors, and the window appeared to be a door, judging by the hinges on the side. Perhaps if I jammed the sword into the crack and pushed? What is this sword, anyway?

Ah yes...the old tale...the sword in the stone...Soille, I believe? Someone once told me about the creator not being able to think of a good name for the sword, and just as he was about to give up, a strange French-sounding name appeared in his head. Soille's name was probably lost in history, due, most likely, to its unconventional unpronounceability. I couldn't even say it now. Wait, why was I thinking of a myth at a time like this? I just somehow know this is Soille, though.

November 8th, Time 20:30

Soille yielded no results when I tried to wrench open the door except causing a cramp in my arm. This being a worthless turn of events, I threw the blade in anger, shattering the colored glass in the process. I walked through the broken window and waded to shore. Apparently I had been in a cave in the middle of the water. As soon as I came near land, however, I glimpsed a small army sprinting past. A straggler was left behind, so I asked him where he was going. He replied, "We're here to destroy the king's army, of course."

"Why would you do that?" I asked.

"In the good name of King Arthur!" he proudly stated.

"That doesn't really explain why you're attacking the king," I expressed.

"Well, you know, King Arthur, pulls the sword out of the stone, great king and all. Then our king. Augh, why? My daughter is dying at home, and does that idiot care?"

"What did the king do?" I questioned.

"Wow, you are just so out of the loop, aren't you? Perhaps you remember King Don taxing us absurd amounts of money to use it on a sculpture of himself."

"No, but I-" I stopped myself. "I'm...a foreigner."

"Ah. So he stops taxing for a while after the statue gets built, then decides he doesn't like it anymore and arranges for the whole bloody thing to be taken down. It cost even more than making the thing. And now," his head dropped, "Poor Eliza, sick, and I can't get her any medicine."

All of this sounded incredibly moving, so I asked, "Who do I talk to to join?"

"Talk to?" He laughed darkly. "Our leader's dead. Just follow me. We're going to the camp."

November 9th, Time 7:45

What a refreshing nap! The stranger told me his name–David–and then asked for mine. It was then that I realized I had zero recollection of who I am–or who I was. I just feel like I first lived many years ago, and although I mentioned a man named Merlin earlier, I don't quite know how I know his name, only that he is (or possibly was) a wizard. And that we journeyed together. Or did we write letters? How did I know his or Soille's name? Who is Excalibur and why does his name keep popping into my head? Never mind. I have a battle to fight. After I finish writing, I'm going outside and helping the army defeat King Don.

November 10th, Time Unknown

I don't care! I could really care less! I may be injured but those people need my help. Well, I might as well write about how I got here.

After I wrote in here yesterday, I made it until about 15:30 without any serious injuries. We all killed a few soldiers, we lost a few men. It was just like the good old days...

Except...

Never mind! I can figure out my name later. Maybe I have some kind of sickness? Continuing on, some numbskull decided to blatantly disregard the concept of a fair fight. The fat thug was standing behind me and swung his axe at my back.

All I can say is, thank God he was nearsighted.

He made a pretty bad cut there without splitting me in half. I laid on my back for a good hour or two, head pounding, blood pooling around me, until I couldn't take the pain any longer and passed out. I guess someone brought me back to camp.

David's not too keen on the idea of me going out there again tomorrow, but King Don needs to be taken down. We're fighting for our rights! Or at least they are. I suppose I'm just fighting for a good cause.

November 11th, Time 11:11

I am a moron.

I am an utter, knuckleheaded, egotistical, unfathomably stupid moron.

Why would I think I would survive out there with a gash in my back an inch deep?

WHY?

What drove me to practically kill myself after being attacked?

HOW DID I GET SO STUPID?

It must have been my determination.

Or maybe that oaf knocked some nerve that was connected to my brain.

Anyways, I went out into battle and the whole army was doing pretty well. I think about a third of us were dead when we realized something.

We had killed every last one of the king's troops.

Only the king was left, and he seemed intent on a one-on-one duel.

For some reason, something in the back of my mind said I should accept, and so I did.

I slashed at his head and was blocked. I went for a low stab before he thrust my sword back with his own, pinning it at my throat until I went for a swipe at his side. He easily sidestepped the attack and drew a thin line of blood up the middle of my face. I stepped back, then leapt forward. My efforts appeared to be fruitless. His boot hit my stomach in mid-air and I slumped on the ground. "Who are you?" he asked. "You're pretty good." I winced in pain as he kicked my side. "Actually, never mind, I don't care."

He raised his blade above me, but David and the rest of the army charged at King Don. Someone knocked the blade out of his hand, but unfortunately, in their haste, that blade dropped. It pierced the skin of my back, then ripped out of the flesh due to its heavy handle. Said handle then toppled and knocked me out with a swift blow to the head.

I'm now in the camp's hospital bed once more, and my noggin really hurts, not to mention the wounds on my back, of course, still ache as well.

It's probably time to stop trying.

I'm pretty sure I fulfilled my goal.

I think I should let go.

At least my life here has told me something. I am King Arthur.

And I am de


End file.
